


A Lesson In Draconian

by coarseCorsair



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen, Slow Burn, canon? never heard of her, eventual femslash, or i guess medium burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8608405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coarseCorsair/pseuds/coarseCorsair
Summary: Running an empire seemed like such a good idea on paper.Oh, how quickly it all became ruins.





	1. Poison Ivy, Growing For A Thousand Years

“Forgive them, my lady, for they are only rabble, and despotism is all they know.”

\- Excerpt from a correspondence between the Royal Consul in Tyvia and Empress Emily Kaldwin, 15th Day, Month of Harvest, 1847

* * *

 

Her funeral was a rather subdued affair, all things considered. No ornate coffin, no heraldics, no regalia of any kind. 

Some traditions, however, couldn’t be avoided.

The streets of Dunwall were covered in black, as if the whole city had been painted with ink. Numerous ministers, parliament members, and representatives from every corner of the Empire had gathered to participate in the proceedings. Each and every one of them had come to Dunwall with an agenda to pursue.

Corvo was the exception.

He was a man that had enough skeletons in his closet to fill out an entire graveyard. A man that had saved the Empire from tyrants and criminals (though this was a matter that was hotly debated, in academic circles, as well as in less savory locales). A man that no longer had a daughter.

He wished it had been raining. He wished he could taste Serkonan figs again. He wished he could live a normal life. He wished he wasn’t Corvo Attano. For now, though, he had to be. For the Empire.

For Emily.

* * *

 

Her coronation ceremony was a rather lavish affair, all things considered. Suits and dresses draped in gold, candied meats and fruits from all of the isles.

Emily was having none of it.

After all the scary stories Corvo had told her in the past, of various boogeymen and murderers prowling the streets of Dunwall, eagerly awaiting naughty children, who could have guessed that the real monster would turn out to have been bureaucracy?

She took yet another tartlet from the plate. Food would distract from internal politics she couldn’t possibly understand, surely.

“Emily, sweetie, you aren’t actually supposed to eat all of the hors d’ouevres.”

“The what?”

“The food, Emily, the food.”

“And why not? It’s not fair!” she whined.

“It’s a formality, and you’re going to have to get used to those, that’s what being an empress means.”

She huffed, crossed her arms, and ate yet another tartlet. He crouched down and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I miss her too, you know.”

“You don’t know what it’s like! You don’t know what it’s like at all!”

“Emily, you’re making a sce-”

“I don’t care! You always had to go somewhere and you never had time for me or for her and, and, and…”

She burst into tears and hugged him tightly, almost as if intent on never letting go.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He wiped the tears from her cheeks. It wouldn’t do much, but it was a start. He was prepared to be a killer, he was prepared to be an advisor, he wasn’t prepared to be a father. He could, at least, try.

“What do you say we go ditch this place?”

“Won’t that make everyone mad?”

“Oh, screw them,” he scoffed.

She giggled. “Corvo, you can’t swear!”

He pulled away from the hug, took her hand, and they ran away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title shamelessly taken from stop the bleeding by aesop rock and homeboy sandman (a very weird source of inspiration i know!)
> 
> thanks to everyone that bothered to read various bits of this (especially skitch aka Hinterlands, who i kind of spewed my ideas at while writing this, maybe even too much, and manda, for beta reading this Mess)
> 
> next up: a certain nb individual enters the scene (whooooo could it possibl-yeah you probably know who it is lmao)


	2. Spartacus Must Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for misgendering (sorry folks)  
> additional note, my headcanon wyman is transfeminine! (much like, uh, the author, funnily enough)

The royal quarters were rather spacious. Too spacious, Emily thought. The emptiness was all encompassing, threatening to devour her at any second. She couldn’t sleep. How long had it been since mother died? Seven, eight years? It was all a blur to her. She missed her calming voice.

She used to watch the stars with her, back when it was more peaceful. Jessamine would tell her all about the constellations and the myths about them, stories of great conflicts and of lovers intertwined. They all shined so bright back then. Now it was all dimmed by the industrial lights, a great black void.

She heard yelling. Yelling and knocking. Who could possibly want to disturb her in the middle of the night? She rubbed her eyes, got out of her bed and opened the door. Two guards stood in front of her; that was normal. What wasn’t normal was the mysterious individual with the ill fitting, tattered blue coat that was being subdued by said guards.

“I appreciate the whole bondage thing you have going on here, gentlemen, but I am really not into you, I swear,” they said.

“We found this um, boy, scampering about the tower,” said one of the guards.

“I’m not a boy, you git!” they replied.

“What do you suggest we do with this...intruder, Empress?” the other guard asked.

“Why don’t we hear them out, perhaps? Guards, could you leave us two alone for a while?”

They complied and left. That was an unorthodox course of action, certainly. She had always been an unorthodox empress, after all. 

“Aw, Empress, you could’ve told me you wanted to spend some quality time together.”

“That’s...that’s literally what I just did.”

An awkward silence hung in the air. Emily stared into the stranger’s eyes, almost as if she were attempting to force a confession out of them. They, in turn, winked.

“Stop distracting me! What are you even doing here?”

“Little old me? Well, I was just strolling by when I saw how lovely Dunwall Tower was! I’m not from here, you see.”

“And where did you come from?”

“Well, my father and mother loved each other very much, so one day the-”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“Fine, fine, I’m from Morley, actually. Nice place, really. River doesn’t smell like shit, for example.”

“The Wrenhaven River doesn’t smell like shit!”

Another awkward silence.

“So...what exactly do we do now?”

“Honestly, I didn’t even think I’d make it this far. But, consider this. You let me free and we never speak of this, ever again!”

“I’m not that naive, you know. Tell you what, though. I’ll let you go, but you can’t break in here again. Ever.”

“Well, you’re no fun.”

“Actually, before I call the guards, I have to ask you...where’d you get that coat?”

“Oh, this old thing? Nicked it off a stuffy noble and there’s not much else to it, I’m afraid.”

“Guards!”

Almost like clockwork, the two guards returned.

“Take them outside.” She paused. “Without any unnecessary altercations, this time.”

They complied, dragging the unexpected visitor with them. Emily was about to go back to sleep when she noticed a crumpled piece of paper on the floor; the stranger must have dropped it, no doubt. She opened the drawer of her nightstand and put the paper there. It was too dark to read at the moment, and she needed to sleep anyways. She wondered what Alexi would have thought of her chatting with a delinquent and simply giving them a slap on the wrist.

* * *

 

Alexi spit out her coffee. “You did WHAT?”

Emily gulped, wiping herself and the dining room table with a handkerchief. “I might have let a criminal roam free?”

“Is this going to be what it’s like from now on? Every weekend you meet with rabble rousers, bomb throwers and anarchists until I eventually die from stress?”

“Could you be any more louder, please? I don’t think they heard you over in Pandyssia.”

Alexi lowered her voice. “My point still stands, though.” She squeezed Emily’s hand tightly. “I care, no, we all care for you. Being an empress isn’t what it was like in those romance novels, I know, but you can’t just leave it all behind like that!”

“I don’t know what to do, Alexi. I think I solved a problem, and then I see that it’s merely been moved away. I think I’m doing good, but then I see that I merely put a bandage on a gaping, gushing wound. How do I convince myself that what I’m doing is just? I want to live up to my mother’s example, but every day that seems more and more unlikely.”

Alexi let go of Emily’s hand. “Do you need some time to yourself?”

Emily’s leg started twitching. She couldn’t stop thinking about last night’s encounter. She wanted to, no, had to read what was on that scrap of paper.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“No, no I’m fine.” She pulled away from the table, and ran to her quarters. Surely some alone time would help her deal with the stress. She frantically dug through her drawer before finding the scrap of paper and pulling it out.

  
It was blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, that sure took a while! i have no clue when the fuck the next chapter is coming out because i am getting swarmed by more college responsibilities, but rest assured, the story definitely does not end here (hopefully that much was obvious)
> 
> thanks to skitch (again, for idea stuff, i am so sorry), alex (spacemagic!) and ophis (poppyseeds)


End file.
